Red
by Attenia
Summary: It starts as a fight, but somehow turns into Harry shoving his cock into Draco's mouth. From then on, it's purely physical between them, but as years pass by, things start to change. Trigger warnings for BDSM, panic attacks and suicidal thoughts.


**Chapter 1**

_Third year _

It started just like it should have – as a fight. Harry was on his way back from a late running Quidditch practice. He didn't know what Malfoy was doing, but the two of them encountered each other in a deserted corridor.

"Potter," Malfoy sneered. "What are you doing here?"

"Going to bed," Harry said shortly.

"Famous Harry Potter needs sleep like the rest of us?"

Harry ignored him, striding past. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his face on the ground; Malfoy had tripped him. He snarled in anger and lunged upward, grabbing the Slytherin's robes. The two of them fell down in a tumble of fists. Harry didn't have his wand with him, and he knocked Malfoy's out of his hand before he could cast a single spell. It rolled away and out of reach.

Harry ended up on top of Malfoy. He managed to grab the Malfoy's hands and pin them above his head. It was only then that Harry realized he was sitting directly on something hard.

_Oh._

He felt his own cock hardening in response. Crap, what now? There seemed only two options. One was to flee. He stared at Malfoy's flushed face, and decided on the second option, leaning down to kiss him.

Malfoy responded fiercely, pulling Harry's tongue in to dance with his own. Harry ground down, making them both groan. Malfoy struggled to free his arms, and Harry tightened his grip, growling into their kiss. When the Slytherin tried again, he freed one hand long enough to slap Malfoy hard on the hip.

Moaning urgently, Malfoy bucked his hips up. Harry didn't understand why hitting Malfoy turned him on more than he'd ever been before, nor why being hit seemed to do the same for the other boy, but he was too horny to care right now.

Common sense made one last interjection. Very reluctantly, Harry paused. He may hate Malfoy, but he wasn't a rapist.

"Malfoy? Is this ok?"

"Shut up," Malfoy snapped, lunging up and capturing his lips in another kiss.

After a few breathless seconds, Harry pulled away once more. "If you want me to stop, say 'red'. Got it?"

"Got it." Malfoy twisted away, grinning, and Harry had to flatten his entire weight onto the Slytherin to keep him in place. All reservations gone, he started tearing at Malfoy's clothes. Harry slapped him across the face in warning before moving back to pull off his own robes.

"Swallow," he ordered, shoving his cock into Malfoy's mouth.

To his great surprise, Malfoy did swallow. And oh, it was _good_. Harry had never done this before, but Malfoy seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Harry put a hand behind Malfoy's head roughly manipulating his mouth further down onto his own cock. Malfoy gagged, and Harry checked himself, realizing that the Slytherin couldn't talk right now.

"Click your fingers for red."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and nodded as best he could, swirling his tongue around the tip of Harry's cock. That was it for him. Harry's vision went white as he came down Malfoy's throat. A wet stickiness between them told him that the Slytherin had come as well.

He got up, pulling on his robes, unsure what to do now. Malfoy made that decision for them, donning his own robes and strutting off without another word.

Harry thought it had been a one time thing. It had certainly given him enough wank fodder a lifetime. Malfoy showed no indication that he wanted a repeat – in fact, he was being even more vindictive than usual.

Harry was therefore taken completely by surprise when someone grabbed his wrist while he was walking to lunch, dragging him into an empty classroom. He found himself once more face to face with Draco Malfoy.

"What?" he asked warily.

"Have you even been paying attention recently? How many times have I insulted your family in the last week?"

"What?" Harry repeated, confused now.

"That level of misbehavior surely requires a punishment."

Harry glanced down to see that Malfoy's cock was already getting hard through his robes. He suddenly got what this was about, and felt a corresponding jolt in his own loins. If he'd been unsure whether Malfoy was fully into this before, he wasn't unsure anymore.

"Take off your clothes," he said quietly.

He'd never seen anyone undress as fast as Malfoy did now. He stood trembling, his cock leaking slightly.

"Bend over that desk."

Fuck, why was this so hot? Harry slapped Malfoy's ass as hard as he could. Malfoy grunted, and Harry paused, but the Slytherin didn't call red. He slapped again, and again, until his cock was leaking and positively straining to come.

He flipped Malfoy over to find his eyes blown wide with lust.

"You will keep a civil tongue when talking to me, or face punishment. Do you understand."

"Yes."

"Yes _sir_."

"Yes, sir."

Harry moved closer. "If you take your punishment well, like you did today, you will get a reward. Do you have one in mind?"

"I want your cock inside me."

Harry tried to hide his surprise. It wasn't that he didn't want that – he just hadn't expected things to move so fast. He'd never done this either, but he knew the theory.

"Then you'd better find something for me to prepare you with –"

"I prepared myself before."

Harry slapped Malfoy. "You belong to me, you understand? No one touches me except you!"

He paused, waiting to see if he'd gone too far, but it appeared to be just the opposite. Malfoy moaned and closed the small distance between them, initiating a scorching kiss. He should stop the Slytherin – after all, Malfoy had initiated a kiss without permission – but Harry couldn't bring himself to do it.

Instead, he bent Malfoy over the desk again, testing for himself to find him fully prepared. Harry pressed into him, being slowly driven wild by the little whimpering noises Malfoy was making.

He quickly started up a rough, frantic rhythm. He knew he wouldn't last long, and was losing track of everything except how hot and tight Malfoy was around him. He grabbed a handful of blond hair, pulling the Slytherin's head back to allow him access to the neck.

"Red!"

Fear spiked through him as Harry let go of Malfoy like his skin had suddenly become lava, pulling out and staggering back a few steps. Had he gone too far? Crap, he'd never meant to…

"Malfoy?"

Malfoy was panting heavily, and didn't seem to want to get up from the desk.

"Stand up and look at me," Harry snapped, and Malfoy reluctantly did as he was told. "What happened? What did I do?"

"My hair – when you pulled it, I – I –" Malfoy gulped, his eyes suddenly wide and panicked.

"Alright." Harry tried to sound soothing. "No hair pulling. I've got it. Do you want to talk more about it?"

Malfoy shook his head.

"Do you want to continue?"

"Yes."

Harry hesitated. Malfoy was still looking slightly panicked. "Sit on the desk."

"Potter, I don't need to be coddled –"

"Shut up and sit." Harry shoved him hard in the chest, effectively getting Malfoy into the position he wanted. That got the spark of lust back into the Slytherin's eyes. "Kiss me," Harry ordered.

Several minutes of kissing turned them both into frantic messes. When Harry flipped Malfoy once more, Malfoy wiggled his ass eagerly. Harry couldn't resist slapping it, making them both groan again. Soon he was once more thrusting for all he was worth. Harry grabbed Malfoy's head, being careful not to pull any hair, tilting it back. This seemed to be fine, because Malfoy merely moaned.

Harry bit down hard between the Slytherin's neck and shoulder, relishing in the feeling of the soft flesh under him. He tried to hold out, but when he changed the angle so that he hit Malfoy's prostate, Malfoy cried out and bucked wildly against the desk, which sent Harry tipping over the edge too.

Once again, Malfoy dressed and walked out without another word, leaving Harry wondering. Why had he looked so panicked at having his hair pulled? Clearly, he didn't want to talk about it, and it wasn't really Harry's place to ask.

From then on, things got into a pattern. Every few days, Harry would corner Malfoy and drag him off to the nearest empty classroom. If he waited too long to do it, Malfoy would do something utterly outrageous to provoke him – Ron nearly pummeled the Slytherin several times, held back only by Harry and Hermione.

He kept his private time with Malfoy from his two best friends, sure that this was something he wanted to keep to himself. Malfoy was still undoubtedly his enemy, but Harry rather liked this new development. They spent time exploring each other's bodies and the boundaries of their new relationship, which turned out to be mutually pleasurable and beneficial.

Harry liked where this was going.

**Chapter 2**

_Fourth year_

"Really, Malfoy? 'Potter Stinks' badges?"

"It's been weeks, sir," Malfoy whined.

"Shut it."

In truth, Harry was glad Malfoy had pushed him into this. He'd been so distracted with the drama around the Triwizard Tournament, he hadn't found a spare hour to relax in far too long.

"At least you get to wank. Do you have any idea how hard it is to go for _weeks_ without a single orgasm?"

"I said, quiet," Harry said in low, dangerous voice. He flicked his wand, conjuring a ball gag, which he advanced on Malfoy with. The Slytherin backed away, but Harry knew his tricks and swiftly pinned him to the wall.

Once the gag was in, he tied conjured rope and tied Malfoy's hands behind his back.

"Click," Harry ordered. He'd been horrified with himself a few weeks back when he'd tied the ropes too tightly, and Malfoy hadn't been able to click. Not that he needed to call red often – they knew each other fairly well by now – but they obviously needed the option to be open.

Malfoy grimaced, but clicked his fingers a few times, which was enough to satisfy Harry. He grabbed a chair and bent Malfoy over the back of it, taking the opportunity to slap his ass. Malfoy moaned and wiggled impatiently. Harry knew what he wanted, but delayed giving it to him, waiting until the Slytherin's ass was a beautiful pink.

Then he took off his belt. Carefully measuring the strength with which he swung, Harry started whipping the belt across Malfoy's bright ass cheeks. After ten strokes, Malfoy jerked wildly in place as he came.

Harry grabbed the oil he now carried everywhere with him and used two fingers to prepare the Slytherin. By the time he was done, Malfoy was hard and squirming again. Harry flipped him onto his back, laying the two of them down on the floor.

"Legs up," he instructed quietly, not helping as Malfoy struggled to get his legs onto Harry's shoulders with his hands bound, eventually managing it.

Harry went as slowly as he could bear to do, knowing that it drove Malfoy wild. He saw Malfoy's cock leaking, and pulled the ends of the rope tying his hands to the front, wrapping it tightly around the base of the Slytherin's cock.

"You only come when I tell you to."

Over the last year, Harry had learned to control himself a lot better. Malfoy was practically crying, his eyes begging for release, by the time Harry came. He undid the rope at just the right moment, licking up Malfoy's come as the Slytherin screamed against the gag with the power of his orgasm.

They cleaned up and vanished the equipment. Harry perched on the edge of the desk, watching Malfoy wince as he moved.

"Do you need healing?"

"No."

They both knew Malfoy liked the pain, and would never accept healing unless Harry insisted on it.

"Have you finished that essay for Snape yet?"

"I am not helping you with your fucking homework again, Potter!"

"Hey, you don't get to hold that against me, it was an emergency! Hermione was too busy to help, and I'd left it to the last minute."

"I know." Malfoy grinned. "I don't know how you pass any of your classes, to be honest, with how late you leave things."

They chatted for a bit more, Harry venting about some of the Triwizard stuff, which Malfoy teased him about. Harry playfully swatted the Slytherin, but he wasn't truly annoyed. Malfoy could always make him laugh, even when Harry was trying his best not to.

Time slipped by too fast, and they had to leave for lessons. When Hermione asked him why he was grinning, Harry shrugged, simply saying that it was a nice day.

It came as a surprise to no one when Moody decided that he was going to have the fourth years do some extra revision on a weekend, to make sure they remembered everything Professor Lupin had taught them.

They went through a variety of creatures with very few problems. Harry was watching Malfoy subtly – as he usually did – so he was the only who noticed when Malfoy flinched as the Boggart was brought out. The Slytherin stealthily made his way to the back of the room.

Of course, Moody didn't care about that. He was picking names at random from the register, and on the after the third turn, he called out "Malfoy!"

Malfoy was trembling from head to foot as he slowly edged forward. As he passed Harry, he looked him in the eye and whispered "Red."

Harry didn't hesitate. He had no idea what this was about, but he had never failed to respond when Malfoy called red and he didn't intent to change that now. He leapt forward, pushing others aside to get at the Boggart.

It turned into a Dementor, and Harry cast his usual Patronus at it. The stag speared the Boggart on one of its antlers, and the creature exploded into a thousand pieces.

"POTTER! I said Malfoy, are you deaf?"

"Sorry, Professor."

As Harry endured the telling off from Moody, he saw Malfoy slip out of the door.

"Bathroom," Harry muttered, hurrying to follow. He checked three empty classrooms before he found Malfoy. He was on the floor with his back against the wall, his face pale as he gasped frantically for air.

Harry hurried to kneel in front of him. "Malfoy? What's wrong?"

Malfoy couldn't speak, but it was clear he was having a panic attack.

"What do you need?"

Harry easily recognized the pleading look Malfoy had given him countless times – the look that begged him to take control of the situation. It was usually in a sexier situation, but Harry didn't care about that now.

He pushed Malfoy's head down between his knees. "Stop that at once. You belong to me, and I get to say how much oxygen you take in, not you. Slow your breath right now, or there will be consequences." He cuffed Malfoy hard on the back of the head to emphasize his words.

The effect was instant. Malfoy's breathing slowly started to calm as Harry gripped the back of his neck painfully hard. Harry pulled him up, putting a hand under his chin. "What was that about?" he asked gently.

Malfoy just shook his head.

"I wasn't asking, Malfoy. You will tell me, and I mean right now."

"My… my father," Malfoy whispered.

"What about him?"

"They can't know – they can't –"

He was hyperventilating again, and Harry resumed his tight grip on the back of the Slytherin's neck. "Slow it down, I mean it. Come on, get up over this desk." He pulled Malfoy's robes up and spanked him until his arse was red and his breathing was calm and steady.

"Now, start again, from the beginning."

"My Boggart… it's my father. I – I can deal with what he does to me, I've gotten used to it, but if anyone else knew…"

Harry felt like a block of ice had made its way into his stomach. "What does he do to you?"

Malfoy shook his head.

"Draco, please. If your father is hurting you, I need to know."

"He… mostly, it's just blowjobs. Sometimes he fucks me, though. Those are the worst. He always grabs my hair when he does it…"

Harry's vision went red with rage. "I'll kill him."

He only realized he'd started striding toward the door up when Malfoy leapt up, grabbing his robes. "No! Potter – Harry, you can't – please –"

"I won't let him do this to you. Either I rip him apart with my bare hands, or he goes to Azkaban for the rest of his life. You choose."

"RED! You can't, please, Harry, red, please…" Malfoy was crying, his face already red and blotchy.

Harry stepped back automatically, his mind whirring. Malfoy calling red had brought him back into his rational headspace, no matter how much he didn't like it.

The Slytherin was hyperventilating again.

"Hey. Come on, Draco, it's ok. I'm won't do anything without your consent. You know that."

Draco let out a shaky sigh. "Thank you."

"But I want you to know that the moment you need help, I'm there. If you ever need to talk about it, I'm there." Agreeing not to act on this was probably the hardest thing Harry had ever done, but it wasn't his choice to make. He vowed someday to persuade Draco, and on that day, Lucius Malfoy was going to regret every vile thing he'd ever done to his son.

Over the next few weeks, Harry tried to get Draco to talk about it, but the Slytherin consistently refused. Eventually, Harry stopped pressuring him and they didn't speak any more of it, except when Harry reminded Draco that he was always there to talk or help if needed.

The only thing that changed was that they were now on first name terms.

**Chapter 3**

_Fifth year_

Things changed when Harry found out about the room of requirement. For the first time, he and Draco had a bed to fuck on. It was much more comfortable, which meant that they naturally spent longer lying there talking afterward than they did in an empty classroom.

Harry had long ago resigned himself to the fact that he and Draco were no longer enemies – that, in fact, they had become friends. They talked late into the night often, Harry taking Draco back to his dormitory under the invisibility cloak before returning to Gryffindor Tower.

Ron and Hermione eventually stopped asking him where he kept disappearing to, and Harry started spending more and more evenings with Draco.

"Fuck me, Harry!"

Harry took his hands off Draco's cock at once, his usual reaction when the Slytherin broke a rule. "Did I say you could talk?"

"Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to –"

"And yet, you still spoke." Harry's cock hardened as it always did when they started to play this game.

"I'm sorry, sir." A drop of precome leaked from the tip of Draco's cock.

Harry grinned, walking around the trembling Slytherin. "And how do you think I should punish you?"

"I think you should torture my cock, sir."

"Good idea, pet." Harry was becoming adept at conjuring a number of things now. This time, it was a candle. "Lie back on the bed."

Draco did it quickly, his breathing speeding up.

Harry lit the candle and tilted it, letting drops of hot wax fall onto Draco's cock. Draco threw his head back and screamed wordlessly. Harry kept going until the wax covered his entire cock.

"Are you ready, pet?"

"Yes, sir."

With a flick of his wand, Harry tore the wax away from the skin.

Draco came in ropy spurts as his cry filled the room. Harry didn't give him a moment to catch his breath, but pushed into the Slytherin, having prepared him earlier. Draco came again before Harry finished – things had gotten a lot more interesting when Harry had discovered the spell that allowed him to delay his own orgasm.

Afterward, they lay side by side, catching their breath. Harry voiced something he'd been wondering about for a while.

"Do you really believe all that stuff you spout about muggle borns?"

Draco shrugged. "I guess I've never really thought about it. It's what's expected of me by – my family, my House, my friends..."

"And if you do think about it?" Harry prompted.

Draco was silent for several minutes, his expression pensive. "Well, that stuff about them not being as good at magic as pure bloods can't be true – look at Granger."

Warmth blossomed in Harry's stomach. He had suspected for a while that Draco only parroted his father's beliefs for show.

"I can't – I need to keep up my behavior, at least until I leave school. If father found out…"

"What does he do to you?" Harry asked gently.

Draco shot him a wary look. "If you're going to try to kill him again…"

"I won't, I promise," Harry said quickly. "I want you to be able to talk to me."

He waited, wondering if Draco would take the offer. He was silent for so long that Harry thought he wouldn't speak, but eventually, he did.

"He never prepares me. That's why I learned to do it myself. The tearing isn't bad when he does it with his dick, but when he uses his cane…" Draco shuddered and gulped as tears started falling down his cheeks.

Harry automatically pulled the Slytherin into his arms. This wasn't something they'd done before – they'd never cuddled after sex, even though they frequently talked – but Draco accepted it easily, pressing his back against Harry's chest. Harry started stroking his hair as Draco shook.

"He – he sometimes brings his friends, lets them take a turn with me. Some of them are worse than he is. And if I don't perform like he wants – he's got this spell that makes spikes on his cane…"

Harry felt himself stiffen, and tried his best to control his rage. "I'm so sorry, Draco," he murmured. "You don't deserve that."

Draco nodded as a harsh sob wrenched his entire body. Harry held him through it, and when Draco started to hyperventilate, instead of dominating him, he simply talked to the Slytherin with tenderness, sensing that it was what Draco needed right now.

After a while, Draco changed the subject, and they talked about easier things. Eventually, the two of them drifted off before ever making it back to their common rooms.

Harry woke up with Draco in his arms, and it felt right. He didn't want to move – ever – but he had class, and there was no way Hermione would let it go if he missed that. He jostled Draco gently.

"Draco. Wake up."

Draco yawned and turned over in his arms. "Good morning." He smiled and kissed Harry, who returned it in the same manner – soft and gentle rather than hot and urgent. It wasn't how they usually kissed, and he found that he liked it.

They left for breakfast shortly after that, and it was only while he was devouring several slices of toast that Harry wondered if something about their relationship had changed.

The two of them spent more and more nights together, until they were away from their common rooms more often than not. They fell asleep and woke up in each other's arms. Their kisses became more tender.

Harry was left with the distinct impression that he was falling in love with Draco Malfoy.

**Chapter 4**

_Sixth year_

"Tell me what's wrong, Draco."

"I can't." Draco shook his head frantically. "Please, Harry."

"I know you were forced to get the dark mark – I've seen that much myself. I'm guessing that what you're afraid of has something to do with that. It's what Voldemort told you to do, isn't it? Tell me. I can help."

"I can't."

"This is not a request, pet. It is an order."

"Red. I can't, Harry. I'm sorry."

Harry sighed, but let the matter drop. What choice did he have? At the very least, he could give Draco some stress relief.

"Get onto your knees, pet. You're going to suck me off, and you're going to do it bound."

Draco dropped gracefully to his knees and stayed completely still as Harry bound his cock tightly in silk ropes. Next, he did Draco's balls, then pulled the rope up into his ass crack, finally using it to tie the Slytherin's hands behind his back.

Harry was already half-hard, and Draco's talented mouth had him all the way there in moments. This time, he didn't try to control it, but let his body run free, coming hard several minutes later. God, Draco was brilliant at blowjobs.

The Slytherin was whimpering in pain. Harry looked down to see his cock attempting in vain to swell, but it was foiled by the ropes.

"Do you want me to take those off, my pet?"

"Yes please, sir.'

"Well, too bad. I'm not done with you yet."

Harry got out his belt. By the time he was done, Draco was writhing frantically against the bed, desperate to come. When Harry finally pushed into him Draco was nearly crying in frustration, but Harry knew exactly how far he could push his sub. Seconds before he came, he vanished the ropes with a flick of his wand, resulting in a spectacular dual orgasm for the two of them.

He pulled Draco into his arms, cleaning them up with another flick of his wand. "When you're ready to talk to me, I'll be here," he murmured.

Draco nodded, but didn't speak.

Months passed in much the same way. It had been two nights since Draco and Harry had spent time together, much longer than he liked to let pass, but Draco was being kept busy with his mystery project.

An owl tapped on the window, waking Harry in the middle of the night. He got up with a groan, but brightened when he saw it was Draco's owl. His sudden cheer vanished when he read the message. It was a single word, written in capitals.

_RED._

Harry dove for his trunk, pulling out the Marauder's Map and frantically searching. There. Draco was at the top of the Astronomy Tower. He set off at a dead sprint, not even taking the time to grab his invisibility cloak.

When he got to the top of the tower, Draco was standing at the edge, looking down, trembling like a leaf.

"Draco!" Harry didn't like how close to the edge the Slytherin was, and quickly pulled him away. "What is it?"

"Harry, I – I –" Draco gulped, unable to make the words come out.

"Tell me," Harry ordered. "This is why you owled me, right? You're calling red on this situation with Voldemort and you need me to take control?"

Draco nodded.

"Ok." Harry pulled him into a hug, letting Draco's head rest on his shoulder. "You listen to me very carefully, Draco. You are going to tell me absolutely everything that has been going on. If you don't, I will flay you within an inch of your life and drag the words out of you between your screams. Do you understand? You don't have a choice here."

Draco's whole body relaxed. Harry could tell that this was exactly what he needed – to have the choice taken away.

The two of them sank to the ground, Draco cradled in Harry's lap while he talked.

Harry stayed quiet, letting the Slytherin get everything out.

"And I can't do it, Harry, and he's going to kill me – and my whole family – he'll torture us – we'll wish for death, beg for it –" He was hyperventilating too badly to speak clearly, but Harry had heard enough.

"Shh, it's alright. I've got you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I love you, Draco. I would never let him hurt you."

"I – I love you, too, Harry. But that just makes it worse – because he'll find out and then it'll be you on the line and –"

Harry hushed him as Draco's voice got increasingly panicky. "Just breathe with me. Come on, slow now. That's an order, pet. I own your breath, not you, and you don't get to take in more than I say."

This strategy helped Draco get control, though he still wept piteously in Harry's arms.

"Why were you up here, Draco?" Harry asked softly.

"I thought – maybe if I was already dead – he wouldn't take it out on my parents…"

Harry's arms tightened around Draco. He had come so close to loosing him. "Thank you for calling me. I'm going to protect you. You and I are going to Dumbledore right now. He's going to get your family into protective custody, and then he's going to do the same for you. You'll be safe at school, but during the holidays, you're not going back to your father. You will never be in the same room as him again without my presence. And if he tries to hurt you… let's just say he'll regret it."

Fear and relief shone in equal measure in Draco's eyes as he stared up at Harry. "I'm not sure I can."

"You don't have to do anything. I've got it from here. You just need to trust me. You do trust me, don't you?"

"I trust you."

"Then come with me. Let's get this done."

**Epilogue**

_Five years later_

Ron was best man. It had taken him a while to accept Draco, but Harry had been clear from the start: Ron and Hermione accepted his boyfriend, or he walked away from them.

Draco's mother walked him down the aisle. He looked like an angel with his blond hair and golden dress robes. Harry's face hurt from smiling.

He barely heard the ceremony – he was too busy staring into Draco's eyes. When they said yes and slipped the rings onto each other's fingers, Harry felt like his heart might just explode out of his chest with joy.

They leaned in for a kiss as the crowd applauded. Harry leaned pulled back a little, resting his forehead against Draco's. "I love you."

"I love you, Harry. So much. Now come on, let's dance."

Harry had never been one for dancing, but he'd do it for Draco. As they walked hand in hand onto the dance floor, Harry knew he was the luckiest man alive.


End file.
